Tough Love Lessons
by deandreamer
Summary: Dean loves his little girl Sammie more than anything but he struggles with being her disciplinarian when necessary. He learns how to be a loving but no-nonsense daddy with some "hands on" training from John Winchester. Each chapter brings Dean closer to handling Sammie on his own. Includes Sam. (Contains parental discipline of a child. Don't like, don't read, and no flames please.)
1. Chapter 1

"Daddy, I don't want to wear those pants. I want the pink ones!" Sammie had just turned four and Dean wondered what all the stir was over the terrible twos while he was dealing with the fucked-up fours. He'd gladly go back to the twos any day.

"Sammie!" Dean's voice was harsh to get her attention. "Stop kicking your legs and let me get these pants on you!" Sammie laid on the bed thrashing as if an unseen force was attacking her. Her legs scissored up and down.

"No! I hate that kind!" Whatever that meant, Dean thought. They were the same friggin' pants in a different color.

"Dean!" John Winchester paused at the end of the bed. John had been busy carrying bags out to the car because they needed to hit the road. Sam was across the street grabbing breakfast for the road for the four of them. "What the hell is the problem here?" Dean looked from his screeching daughter to his dad, back to his daughter, and then back to his dad.

"I can't get these pants on her. She wants the pink ones but hell if I know where they are."

"I hope you aren't being serious." John stared at Dean sternly waiting for confirmation.

"Dad, dressing her is like dressing a damn octopus. I can't get her to be still!"

"Dean." Dad was using the no-nonsense voice. "Sammie is four. You are the parent here. Take charge of this situation. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." John continued out the motel room door to the car with their bags.

"Sammie, stop your kicking and put these pants on. Now!" Dean used his best angry tone to scare her into compliance. Dean tugged one leg on but Sammie was having none of it, She rolled to the center of the bed, thrashing the pants off, kicking like a mule. Dean tried to regain control when Sammie's foot crashed into his chin. Dean stumbled back onto the floor ... Right into the path of John Winchester.

John tripped over Dean but righted himself before he too tumbled to the floor where his oldest son sat stunned and rubbing his chin. John gave Dean a death look and shook his head in annoyance. John stepped over Dean and pulled Sammie by her legs to the edge of the bed. John lifted her legs and swatted the backside of her panties a half dozen times with stinging, hard swats. Sammie shrieked at the first slap and was howling by the sixth. John brought his hand back as if to spank again but he paused and looked Sammie in the eye.

"Do you need more, Samantha?" John asked in a loud but composed voice.

"No, Poppa John, no more spankin'!" Sammie wailed. The kicking had ceased and she was rubbing her little fists against her crying eyes.

"Stand up!" She immediately complied with John's order, standing on the bed. When he pointed to the spot in front of him, she covered her butt with her hands without moving to him.

"Now, Samantha, unless you want another swat." Sammie went to John right away as Dean watched from the floor. John picked up her pants and held one leg hole open.

"Step in." She put her foot in. John held open the other leg and looked at her which was enough to get her to put her other leg in. He pulled up her pants all the way, while she continued sobbing. John lifted her into his arms and she immediately wrapped her little arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. He rubbed her back with one hand and patted her bottom with his other, her legs wrapped around John's waist.

"You're okay, Sammie. Calm down. You're okay."

"Poppa John, you hurted my heinie." Sammie cried.

"I know. A spanking is supposed to hurt your heinie." John looked at his grand-daughter. "Tell Poppa John, why did you just get spanked?"

"I was bad girl?" She asked him, her small palm against his neck. He sat down on the bed with her and sat her on his lap.

"No, Sammie, you aren't a bad girl. But sometimes you misbehave. Kids that misbehave get punished. Do you understand that?" She shook her head no.

"Well, let's try this. Do you like when I spank your butt?" She shook her head with an exaggerated no.

"Answer me like a big girl, Sammie." John was gentle with his reminder. After all, she was only four.

"No, Poppa John, I don't like spanks."

"When your daddy or me or Uncle Sam tells you to do something, you need to do it. Not if or when you feel like it. You do as we say when we say and you won't get spanks. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Poppa John." Sammie answered coyly.

"Good girl." John kissed her forehead and she snuggled against his chest fisting his shirt.

"Now, I want you to get up, go over to your dad, and apologize for kicking him in the face. And if I ever see you do anything like that again, you'll get a real spanking over my knee with your panties pulled down. Do you understand me?" He held her chin so she faced him.

"Yes, Poppa John." John pointed to Dean. Sammie jumped down from John's lap and went over and sat on Dean's as he sat cross-legged on the floor watching the interaction between his dad and his daughter.

"I sorry, Daddy. I not kick you ever again." Sammie hugged Dean and Dean hugged her back. John stood and pointed at Dean.

"That is how it is done, son. You need to get with the program and start taking responsibility for your daughter. It is your job to raise her right, Dean. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." John picked up the last of the bags and headed back for the door. "We move out in ten. Do a final check of the room." John headed out to the car. Dean turned to his daughter and wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"You okay, Sammie?" Dean asked.

"I don't like when Poppa John spanks." She said sadly.

"Yeah, I never did either, Sammie. But Poppa John spanks you because he loves you."

"Does that mean you don't love me, Daddy?" Her eyes filled with tears again.

"Of course Daddy loves you, Sammie. Why would you ask me that, baby?" Dean smoothed the straggly hair away from her face.

"You said Poppa John spanks me because he loves me. You don't spank me. Does that mean you don't love me?"

"Baby, listen to me." Dean pulled his daughter close. "The truth is, daddy should have spanked you not Poppa John. Poppa John is not too happy with me either because that is my job and I didn't do it."

"This is all your fault, Daddy." Sammie huffed crossing her arms. Just then Sam walked in with breakfast, saw Sammie's grumpy face, and smirked.

"What's the matter, Sammie?" Sam asked her. Sammie reached her arms up to him and Uncle Sam swung her onto his hip.

"Poppa John spanked me because of Daddy!" She declared seriously pointing at Dean. Dean made a WTF face and shrugged.

"He did? That happened to me once or twice too, kiddo." Sam carried Sammie to the door of the room and turned back to his brother.

"Only a jerk would get his own kid spanked, Dean." Sam had a knowing smile on his face, when he turned and walked to the car leaving Dean alone in the room still sitting on the floor.

"Bitch." Dean mumbled before getting up and following his brother.

END


	2. Chapter 2

John, Dean, Sam, and Sammie were on the road for hours and all four of them were getting cranky.

"We're going to stop at this diner and get some dinner." John, as always, made the decisions for the group.

"I want McDonalds." Sammie informed her grandfather from the backseat.

"Well, we're going to the diner, Sammie."

"Diners don't have happy meals, Poppa John." Sammie seriously informed him.

"Well, little girls that argue with their grandfathers don't have happy meals either." He looked at her pointedly in the rearview mirror as he pulled into the driveway. She crossed her arms and made an angry face. John had to turn away so she wouldn't see the grin playing on his face. Damn, if that little girl wasn't a clone of her daddy. Stoic and attitudinal to the core. John parked the car. John and Sam exited the front seat while Dean unstrapped his daughter from her car seat.

"C'mon, princess." Dean reached to lift her from her seat and she twisted away from him.

"I don't want to eat here, Daddy. Can we go to McDonalds?"

"No, baby, Poppa John said we are eating here so let's go." Dean tried once again to lift his daughter.

"But Daddy!" The whine was loud enough to catch the attention of his dad and brother.

"Don't start, Sammie. Let's go." His voice was harsher now.

"What's the problem, Dean?"

"No problem, Dad." Dean turned back to Sammie and spoke to her in a whisper between gritted teeth. "Come to me right now and stop with the attitude or I am going to turn you over and smack your butt. Is that what you want?"

"You don't smack my butt, Daddy." Sammie taunted him with a giggle.

"Now or I get Poppa John in here to get you out," he hissed in response. Her demeanor changed and she reached for Dean. He pulled her out with ease and swung her up onto his hip, the way parents have carried children since the beginning of time.

"That's what I thought." Dean mumbled under his breath as the four of them crossed the lot into the diner.

They got a booth near a window. John needed to monitor his surroundings at all times; it helped to see what was outside. John and Sam took one side of the booth while Dean and Sammie took the other. Sammie immediately stood up on the seat and turned to the booth behind her where an elderly couple was eating breakfast. Sammie began to play with the woman's scarf which had sparklies in it.

"Dean." Sam nodded at Sammie so Dean would notice her pestering their neighbors.

"Sammie, sit." Dean told her turning back to his menu.

"Dean." This time it was John's voice and it sounded none-too-happy. Dean looked up at his father. "Make your daughter sit. Now." Dean realized Sammie hadn't listened to him. This time he grabbed her, pushed her legs out from under her, and plopped her angrily on the booth seat.

"Daddy, you hurt my heinie!" Sammie wailed loud enough for half the restaurant to hear and Dean turned eight shades of red. John looked about ready to go nuclear.

"You and you," John said pointing at Dean and Sammie. "Outside now." Dean slid out of the booth and began to follow John when he realized Sammie didn't move.

"Let's go." Dean said to her.

"No, Poppa John is gonna spank me." Once again, they garnered the attention of the other diners. Sam shook his head and continued to study the menu. Dean leaned over and grabbed Sammie before she could pull away. He stormed outside and looked for John. John stood at the end of the building waiting for them. Dean knew better than to keep his dad waiting. He walked to him briskly carrying Sammie whose lips were quivering as they always did right before she cried. Dean put her on the ground so that she was standing next to him. She darted behind his legs, clutching his thigh and burying her face in denim of his jeans.

"Dean, this stops now, okay? I have had enough of this crap. I get that you aren't comfortable in this new skin as a parent but tough shit. Get over yourself and start doing your job!" Dean looked down at the ground, a habit that stayed with him since childhood when he was receiving verbal retribution from his dad.

"Don't look down, Dean. The answers aren't by your feet. Use your friggin' head and you'll get it right. Squat down, look your daughter in the eye, and explain to her what she is doing wrong and what is going to happen if you have to bring her back out here. She deserves that much. She has no idea what the expectations are since you haven't set any boundaries!" Dean felt like he was ten years old again, being scolded by his dad. Dean slowly squatted and turned Sammie to face him, his hands on her upper arms.

"Samantha, when I tell you to sit down, you sit down. It is not okay to stand up on seats in restaurants and it is not okay to bother people at other tables. If you do it again, I'm going to bring you out to the Impala and give you a spanking. Do you understand me?" Dean's voice was controlled and firm. Sammie nodded at her dad.

"Dean, she needs to answer you. Not just nod her head." Dean didn't understand why this was so significant but it was easier to enforce what John wanted rather than debate it.

"Sammie, tell Daddy that you understand what I just said."

"I do understand but I understand that I'm hungry too." Even when naughty, Sammie couldn't be any cuter.

"You need to listen. Got it?" Sammie nodded but Dean let that non-verbal go. Dean and Sammie walked hand-in-hand following John back inside. 

The waitress brought crayons for Sammie to keep her amused while they waited for their food. But before long, Sam noticed that Sammie was straying from the placemat.

"Sammie, don't color on the table. Use your placemat." Sammie showed no signs of hearing him. Sam reached across the table and took the crayon from her hand.

"What did I just say, Sammie?" Sam's voice was firm.

"Uncle Sam!" Sammie whined loud. "I was using that!"

"Yeah, on the table which I just told you not to do." John and Dean stopped their idle chat over their latest shtriga combat strategies.

"Daddy, Uncle Sam tooked my crayon. Get it back for me." Dean turned to his brother.

"Sam, don't take her crayons. Give it back."

"The hell I will, Dean. Did you hear anything that was just said? Your daughter was writing on the table."

"Chill, Sam. It isn't spray paint. It's a crayon!"

"Dean, don't even go there. You aren't going to blow this off." John warned him, "Deal with her or I'm going to start dealing with you." The meaning didn't escape Dean and he didn't defy John Winchester except in moments of sanity lapses.

"Sammie, if you want to color, you color on the placemat not the table. You got it?" Dean looked at his daughter who kept her eyes on Sam and her crayon.

"Dean, she needs to look at you when you verbally discipline her. Make her do it." John could be such a ball breaker.

"Sammie, look at me." Still no response from his daughter. He grabbed her chin and turned her head to look at him. "I said look at me, Samantha!" Sammie looked personally affronted.

"Let go of me!" Sammie shrieked.

"Okay, Dean, that's it. Shut it down. Take her out to the car and give her an attitude adjustment. And don't you dare bring her back in here until she is ready to behave." Dean hestitated looking from his dad to his daughter.

"Now, Dean." John's tone was sharp with warning. Dean needed to deal with the inevitable. He slid out of the booth and grabbed Sammie under her arms to lift her. He swung her onto his hip and she began to flail and screech.

"Dad, how do I know how much is enough?" Dean was like a fish out of water.

"When you see a change in attitude, then wrap it up. Make sure she knows that you love her when you are done. It is important." Dean nodded and carried his daughter to the Impala. He took her into the backseat and stood her between his legs. Sammie screeched even louder trying to drop onto the floor as soon as Dean tried to pull her jeans down.

"Sammie, I ain't putting up with this bullshit anymore! You either stand up so I can pull these pants down or I will hold you down to do it and you'll get another spanking at bedtime for fighting me. Is that what you want? Two spankings?"

"I don't wanna spankin! I don't want you to do this, Daddy!" Sammie plead with her daddy, bouncing with emphasis.

"I know you don't, Sammie, but you earned it and when you earn it, you get it. What is it going to be? Spanking now or spanking now and at bedime?"

"Only now, Daddy!"

"Then STAND UP!" Dean had never yelled at her like this before and she realized she crossed a line with her dad. She put her hands on Dean's knees to pull herself up.

"Keep your hands right where they are." Dean instructed as he tugged her jeans down. She continued to cry and even stomped her foot. Dean tried not to smirk. How many times did he do that when the belt landed on his butt as a kid?

"Now, tell me why you are getting this spanking."

"Because you are mad at me!" Sammie sobbed in earnest. Dean was proud of his daughter for keeping her hands on his knees as he told her to do rather than putting them to her butt for protection like she usually did when Poppa John spanked her.

"No, that isn't why. You are getting it for writing on the table and for acting out in the restaurant. You know better than to do either, right?"

"Daddy! Hold me!" She reached her arms out to her dad.

"I will hold you after I smack that butt." Dean placed Sammie across his thigh and rested his hand on the tiny rump covered in unicorns and rainbows. He had no idea how to do this so he had to formulate a plan quick. "Sammie, since you are four, you're getting four spanks whenever you deserve to be punished. So, you are getting four for not listening and four for misbehaving."

"That's too many, Daddy! You'll hurt my heinie!" She screeched and tried to roll from Dean's thigh but he had a firm grip on her waist and easily held her in place.

"Spankings are supposed to hurt, Sammie." The first smack produced a scream that was migraine-producing. Dean rolled his eyes knowing he didn't smack her as hard as he has seen his dad do. His hand covered her whole backside so both cheeks got equal treatment. He smacked in the same place all eight times since his hand covered mid-butt to upper thigh. After eight, Sammie was apologizing and promising to be good. He picked her up and held her like a baby in his arms, her butt drooped between his thighs since it undoubtedly stung a little bit. Dean stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. He felt surprisingly at ease about what had just transpired between him and Sammie. Not that he enjoyed making his baby cry like that. That was harder than ganking a vamp. He had been so worried about the outcome but here was his little girl with her arms around his neck, her face buried in his chest. Once her tears subsided and she was down to choppy breathing, he turned her face toward him so she'd be looking at him.

"Sammie, Daddy loves you so much. You are the most important person in my life. You know that, right?" He gazed into crystal green eyes that mirrored his own.

"Yes, Daddy, I know." She took a deep choppy breath while she looked at her daddy.

"Sammie, Daddy didn't like what just happened here. Did you like it?"

"No, Daddy, you hurted my heinie just like Poppa John does!" She scrunched her nose and gave Dean a frowny face.

"Sammie, spankings have to hurt so when you think about doing wrong again, you'll remember how it felt to get your butt smacked. If you don't want it smacked, then you need to listen to us and do as you are told. And no acting up!" He raised his voice at the end for emphasis.

"And no kicking Daddy in the face or Poppa John will smack my bare heinie!" Dean grinned at this revelation. That had happened a month ago; Sammie had kicked him while he was trying to dress her in the morning. Yeah, John Winchester had a special way of making kids remember what not to do.

"That is right. You don't ever want Poppa John to swat your bare butt, believe me. You won't sit for days." Dean warned her.

"I want to sit, Daddy."

"Glad to hear it, Sammie. You ready to go back in and be a good girl?"

"Yes, Daddy, I'm hungry." Dean pulled up her pants, kissed her on the head, and got out of the car. Sammie crawled out next to him and rubbed her butt with her hands a few times.

"Still sting?" Dean asked, taking her hand to walk back inside.

"Not as bad as Poppa John." Dean needed to work on that. 

Sammie climbed back into the booth carefully. She kneeled on the seat and resumed her coloring as if nothing had happened.

"I'm impressed, Dean." John looked at his grandchild and son.

"Sorry, Dad, I don't follow."

"Well, Sammie is completely passive which means you successfully adjusted her attitude, and based on the fact that she is kneeling at the table rather than sitting, I'd have to say you did a pretty good job." Dean blushed and looked away.

"Dean." John's tone made Dean look at him immediately. "What you did out there, you did for Sammie's own good. And believe me, I know how much it hurt you to administer that discipline. It didn't hurt me any less when I had to punish you or Sam. But what I did, I did because I loved you boys more than anything in this world. And because of it, you are the men you are today. And I couldn't be any prouder of the two of you." John wasn't typically verbose with compliments so this extraordinary praise made their eyes fill.

"Hey, boys, c'mon. Don't wuss out on me now. You're ruining the moment." The old John Winchester was back in a flash.

The Winchesters ate their breakfast without any further disruptions. Sammie kneeled through breakfast but didn't complain even once while she happily munched her pancakes. John paid the bill and the four of them walked out into the bright morning sun. Sammie skipped along side her Uncle Sam holding his hand, trailed by John and Dean. Dean stopped suddenly.

"Hey, Dad?" John stopped and turned to his eldest son.

"What is it?" John looked around, ever on guard protecting his family.

"I just wanted to say thanks."

"For what?" John looked puzzled.

"For showing me how to be the dad Sammie deserves. I might not be John Winchester but I can pull off a pretty close second."

"Dean, you know something?" John walked over to him and stood toe to toe with his son. "You're a better dad than I ever was."

"Dad, no, I-"

"Let me finish." John said in that no-nonsense Winchester tone. "I did the best I could with you and Sam. But I wasn't always there for you. And you had to become an adult fast. Since that little girl entered our lives," John said pointing toward Sammie, "You have been there every minute and when you couldn't be there, you made sure that Sam or I was there to protect her and take care of her. And that is more important than knowing when to smack her ass." John smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."

When they reached the car, Sammie jumped into Dean's arms and kissed him on the nose. Dean laughed.

"Love you, Sammie."

"Love you, Daddy." 

END


	3. Chapter 3

"Poppa John?"

"What is it, sweetheart?" John looked back at his grand-daughter in the rearview mirror.

"When we were at the motel with the stinky beds, I gotted this and I want to go." Sammie leaned forward in her carseat to hand John a brochure of some sort. Dean reached back to grab it and handed it to John.

"You want to go to the aquarium?" The lack of delight was evident to Sam and Dean but Sammie didn't notice.

"Uh-huh." Sammie nodded.

"Is that a yes, Sammie? Talk like a big girl. You're four now." John coached his grand-daughter gently but firmly.

"Yes, Poppa John." She sounded exasperated.

"Tone, Samantha." Dean warned his daughter.

"Sorry, Daddy. I just really want to go. I never sawed a quarium." Sam smiled at Sammie who was holding his hand the entire ride.

"Well, if we did that, it would set us back a day." John said to no one in particular.

"Poppa John! Dolphins are more important than demons!" Sammie was adamant and all three Winchester men looked at her.

"What do you know about demons, Sammie?" Sam was troubled that Sammie brought up demons.

"Daddy telled me about them." Sammie was matter-of-fact, as Sam and John both turned their attention to Dean.

"What?" Dean asked defensively.

"Really, Dean? You needed to tell a four year old little girl about demons?" Sam was annoyed with his brother.

"It was just a story! Sammie wasn't scared, were you, Sammie?" Dean turned to his daughter. Sammie nodded her head vigorously.

"I was scared, Daddy. You said demons were real and they are everywhere." John smacked Dean in the back of the head. Dean glared at his daughter while rubbing the back of his head.

"Common sense, Dean." John said.

"Yes, sir."

"So I agree with Sammie," Sam said, changing the subject. "We should go to the aquarium."

"Need I remind you this family isn't a democracy?" John looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror.

"Peese, Poppa John, I wanna see dolphins and turtles and fishies and seahorses and-"

"Alright! We'll go." John exited the highway and followed the signs for the aquarium.

"I love you, Poppa John." Sammie sing-songed.

"I love you too, baby girl." John replied, smiling at the apple of his eye.

* * *

John found a spot semi-close to the front. He no sooner killed the engine, when Sammie scrambled out of the Impala.

"Sammie, wait!" Sam yelled as he dashed from the other side of the back seat. Breaks screeched as a car skidded to a stop two feet from Sammie. Sam grabbed Sammie's arm and swatted the back of her shorts so hard, it moved her from in front of the car. Sammie started to cry and tried to pull away but Sam easily swung her onto his hip. He approached the halted car and apologized to the driver.

"Did you just run out of the car and into the parking lot without holding an adult's hand, Sammie?" Dean asked his daughter, his hands on his hips. John was proud that Dean was handling the situation rather than letting him step in.

Sammie shook her head "no" and buried her face into her Uncle Sam's shirt. Sam looked to Dean to take control.

"Sammie." Dean reached out to take her from Sam but Sammie turned away from her dad.

"One." Sammie's head whipped back to look at Dean who had started counting.

"Daddy, no!"

"C'mon, Sammie, listen to your dad." Sam gently coached her, trying to pry her from his shirt and hand her to Dean.

"Two." Sammie reached for her dad not wanting him to get to three. She knew from experience with Poppa John that bad things would happen if he got to three. He took her from Sam and turned to his dad.

"You and Sam go ahead. We'll meet you at the entrance in 5. I need to talk to Sammie."

"Remember, Dean, don't take the easy road." John reminded Dean sternly. "Take the right road and you'll get where you need to be faster." Dean nodded at John to acknowledge that he heard him. John and Sam sauntered up to the front entrance. Dean carried Sammie toward the restrooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Dean didn't answer his daughter. He continued to walk purposefully toward the men's room carrying his daughter on his hip.

"I not need to pee-pee, Daddy." Again, he ignored her as he carried her in and walked with her to the end stall. He set her down on the floor and latched the stall door.

And then he turned to face his daughter, hands on his hips.

"Pull your shorts down, Sammie."

"But I don't need to go, Daddy!" She stomped her foot for emphasis. Dean leaned down and smacked the back of her bare thighs, leaving a daddy-sized hand print slap echoed in the empty bathroom making it sound even louder than it was. Sammie squealed, her little hands darting to her stinging thighs.

"You do not raise your voice to me and you do not stomp your foot at me! Do you understand?" She nodded at her dad, still rubbing those red thighs.

"When I tell you something, you do it! Now, pull your shorts down like Daddy said."

"But why, Daddy?" Her voice was pleading.

"You're getting a spanking for running into the parking lot. The rule is one hand on the Impala until the other is holding someone's hand. You broke the rule."

"But Uncle Sam already spanked me!" Sammie yelled at Dean.

"Uncle Sam gave you one swat, Samantha!" Dean yelled back.

"One is enough, Daddy!" Sammie stomped again and Dean's hand darted out and landed another hard smack to her thighs in the same spot. Sammie grabbed her legs and screeched again.

"Daddy, STOP!" Sammie yelled at him.

"I decide what is enough and I decide when to stop, Samantha. Get those shorts down or you'll get another spanking for not cooperating. Is that what you want?"

"No! Daddy, please!"

"Shorts. Down. Now." Dean was seconds from losing his composure and he knew if that happened, he'd be too angry to spank safely.

"Daddy, please don't spank my heinie!"

"One."

"Daddy!"

"Two." Sammie pushed her shorts down to her knees and from there they fell to her ankles. Her hands cupped her little, panty-clad, butt cheeks and she began to cry. Dean knelt down and gently pulled her to standing directly in front of him.

"Tell Daddy why you are getting spanked, Samantha." Dean's voice was soft but firm.

"I ranned out in front of a car."

"What are you supposed to do when you get out of the car?"

"Hands on the car until it is safe." Dean nodded and turned her to the side. He trapped her arms at her sides wrapping his left arm around her to help her keep them out of the way. His right hand connected with Sammie's butt four times in the same spot which covered her lower rear and sit spots. With each smack, Sammie yelled out.

By the fourth, she was sobbing heavily. He turned her back to facing him and pulled her shorts up. Her little hands immediately went to work rubbing where he smacked. Dean waited while she cried it out before starting a post-burn lecture.

"What aren't you going to do ever again, Samantha?" Dean's voice was calm.

"Run in front of a car." Her voice was shakey with choppy breaths.

"You never step into a parking lot or street without holding an adult's hand. Do you understand me, Samantha?"

"Yes, Daddy, I sorry!" The floodgates opened again as Dean pulled his daughter against him and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Okay, Sammie, you are okay. Stop crying, baby." Dean was gentle and rubbed her back to bottom to comfort her. Soon Sammie's breathing returned to normal and sobs no longer wracked her body. She lazily traced an invisible design on Dean's shoulder with her fingers as he held her. He waited another minute enjoying the affection that always came after discipline before pulling her back to face her again.

"You ready to see some dolphins, baby?" Dean smiled at his daughter. She nodded. He stood, took her hand, and headed to find his dad and brother.

* * *

John and Sam sat side-by-side on a bench in front of the aquarium when Dean and Sammie approached walking hand-in-hand. As soon as Sammie saw John and Sam, she yanked her hand from Dean's and ran to John. She climbed up into his lap and put her arm around his neck.

"How's my girl? You okay?" John nuzzled her cheek which always made her giggle. She found his 5 o'clock shadow to be tickly. Sammie nodded and hugged him harder. John smiled to himself knowingly. Dean looked away slightly jealous that John and he had now reversed roles of disciplinarian and comforter.

When John tried to put Sammie down, she resisted.

"Poppa John carry me." It was a statement not a question.

"Don't you want to walk like a big girl?"

"Poppa John hold me." Another statement. Sammie knew what she wanted. John stood with her, shifting her to his side so she was resting on his hip. Once they paid and entered, Dean made a suggestion.

"Sam, how about you be tour lead for this. You probably know the most about this ... This ..."

"What? Aquatics? Marine biology?" Sam probed Dean.

"Yeah, so lead the way." Sam studied the map they were given and pointed.

"We'll start this way." He began to walk down the corridor.

"Uncle Sam!" He turned and Sammie was reaching for him. Sam took her from John.

"You ready to have some fun?" She nodded, laughing, the spanking from Dean a distant memory. Sam put his niece up on his shoulders and began to point at the exhibits, explaining them in four-year-old terms.

* * *

"Hey, Dean." Dean looked at John. They trailed behind Sam and Sammie, sauntering through the aquarium.

"Sir?"

"Hey, I just wanted to say I'm impressed with what you are doing with Sammie. I see a change in her. I do, Dean. She respects you now. That is how it should be with a father and child."

"Thanks, Dad." Dean's voice was a little gravelly. John didn't hand out compliments too readily and Dean wasn't expecting one.

"And I'm glad you realized all on your own that one swat wasn't enough for darting in front of a car and nearly getting herself killed. She is lucky I wasn't the one to have had a talk with her." Dean chuckled.

"I'd agree with that." Now it was John's turn to chuckle. Just then they heard Sam yell for Sammie, urgency in his voice. The Hallmark moment was over and both Winchesters went into alert mode and ran in the direction of Sam's voice. Just when they got there, Sam was landing his second swat for the day on Sammie's butt. He immediately kneeled down in front of her.

"You do not run ahead! You know better than that!" Sam was scolding Sammie. Dean jogged over to them, and John followed.

"What happened, Sam?"

"Sammie wanted to get down from my shoulders, we were walking hand-in-hand. But she tugged away from me and ran up ahead where I couldnt see her. I'm sorry, Dean, that should have never happened." Sam apologized.

"Sam, why are you apologizing? You aren't the one who did something wrong." Dean said to Sam but actually looked at Sammie when he said it. Sammie's eyes went wide and her hands flew to her cover her backside.

"Daddy, it was an accident!" Sammie pleaded.

"Do I need to take you back to the bathroom?"

"No, Daddy, I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again." Sammie continued to protect her butt with her hands not trusting that Dean wouldn't land a swat too.

"Take your uncle's hand and if I see you let go for even a second, you're getting another spanking. Understand me?" Sammie nodded and grabbed Sam's hand so tight her knuckles turned white.

"Answer me, Sammie."

"Yes, Daddy, I understand."

"Let's go see some turtles." John nodded and smiled at Dean.

* * *

The Winchesters spent hours in the aquarium wowwing Sammie with sting ray petting and dolphin shows. Sammie was like a little, love butterfuly flitting among the Winchester men throughout the day. Mostly, she stayed with Sam; he was most entertaining. But she showed John and Dean love throughout the day too occasionally reaching for them to be carried, insisting on sitting on John's lap for lunch and Dean's for the dolphin show. Through the shark exhibit, Sammie was back with her adored uncle. When they got to the shark tank, Sam held Sammie up so she could see the sharks better. He was pointing out the different types of sharks when he felt his sleeve get warm ... and wet.

"Oh, Sammie, tell me you didn't just pee on my arm." Sam looked at his niece and shook his head.

"Sorry, Uncle Sam." Sammie's lip began to quiver. "I didn't feeled it." Her eyes filled up with tears.

Sam walked down to where his dad and brother were deep in discussion by the jelly fish exhibit.

"Dean." Dean stopped talking and looked at Sam. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Sam, name it."

"Can you run out to the car and get Sammie clean pants and underwear?"

"Why?" Sam turned to show Dean his arm and the dark stain on Sammie's pants.

"Samantha Mary Winchester, what did you do?" At the tone of her dad's gruff voice, Sammie began to cry in earnest.

"It was an accident, Daddy."

"You should have told Uncle Sam that you needed to go." Dean scolded her harshly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't feeled it."

"Well, you're gonna 'feeled' my hand on your butt. You know better!" Dean went to reach for Sammie but John intercepted and gathered Sammie into his arms.

"Dean, it was an accident." Dean looked at his dad increduously.

"So, you suggesting I should let this go? Really, Dad?"

"Dean, you don't discipline a kid for an accident. There was no willful disobedience here." Sammie put her head on John's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You believe that, Dad? You don't think she's just saying that to avoid being punished?" Dean had his hands on his hips looking skeptically at John.

"Dean, c'mon. Sammie has been an angel all day since the hand-holding incidents. She hasn't talked-back or misbehaved once. And do you really think she likes the feel of wet pants?" John rationalized and Dean looked at him as if he was possessed.

"Dad, I don't know what is going on with you but you are not talking like John Winchester."

"Okay, guys, listen," Sam interjected, "While you two have some philosophical debate over discipline for wetting, can I run out to the Impala and get Sammie some clothes?" John responded by handing Sam the keys and Sammie. Sam took her from him and made sure to carry her on the same wet arm. He strolled down the hall and down the staircase. John turned back to his son.

"Dean, do you really think you never wet your pants?"

"I know Sam did but I didn't ever-"

"Oh yes you did. Even cool Dean Winchester had potty training accidents." John chuckled but Dean wasn't amused.

"At four?"

"Your last was at five." John smiled.

"Ah, c'mon, Dad. You expect me to buy that?"

"It's true, Dean. I am not lying to you."

"And you didn't punish me for it?" Dean asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

"No, I didn't punish you. It was an accident, Dean. I have never punished you or Sam for something that wasn't your fault." Dean huffed the air out of his lungs. And then Dean whirled back to John remembering something.

"Wait a minute! I remember when I was 17, I pissed myself and you beat the shit out of me, Dad!" Dean was accusing and obviously felt he was winning this one.

"Dean." John ran his hand over his face and then through this hair turning back to his son. "I didn't whip your ass for pissing your pants. I whipped your ass for driving drunk in my fucking Impala! You got yourself shit-faced with some college kids and you took a leak on the drive home ... without getting out of the car!" Dean immediately felt stupid. Of course his dad was right. Underage drunk driving was the crime that prevented comfortable sitting for a week; and truth be told, his dad didn't give a rat's ass about his wet jeans; it was the piss on the seats of the Impala that made him go nuclear. Dean closed his eyes in thought and then turned back to John.

"So, how do you know all this shit, Dad? How do you know if your kid is playing you to get out of punishment?" John smiled, stepped into Dean's personal space, and put his hand, palm down over Dean's heart.

"Dean, when it comes to Sammie, let your heart tell you what is right." John patted Dean's chest above his heart. "Will you ever be wrong? Maybe but that bond between a dad and his child helps prevent you from making those kind of mistakes." Dean contemplated what his dad said and John continued. "Do you ever remember getting your ass beat undeservingly? Answer me honestly, Dean. Have I ever smacked you wrongfully?"

"No, Dad. Except for the times that I took the blame for something Sam did but that was all on me. My choice." John nodded.

"So, you'd say I was fair then? When it came to you and Sam?" Dean nodded back.

"Dean, Sammie is the luckiest girl in this world. She has an uncle and grandpa who would slay all of the demon armies of Azazel to keep her safe. And she has a dad who has lived through the tortures of hell and yet he still finds that smacking his little girl's ass is the hardest thing to endure. Am I right on, Dean?"

"When is John Winchester ever wrong?" Dean's voice was husky with emotion.

"When I thought that you wouldn't be strong enough to be the dad that Sammie deserves." John enveloped Dean in a quick but strong hug. Just then Sam and Sammie reappeared holding hands.

"What is this Hallmark moment about?" Sam asked his dad and brother. Sammie wrapped her arm around Sam's leg and leaned into him, eyeing her dad warily.

"Ah, we were just uh ... getting in touch with our feminine sides." Dean joked, smiling at his brother. "Hey, I need a moment with Sammie."

"No, I wanna stay with Uncle Sam." Sammie whined ducking between Sam's legs and burying her face. Sam gently disentangled her.

"Listen to your dad, Sammie." Uncle Sam counseled her with good advice.

"Samantha, go to your daddy." John prompted her and when she remained still, John took her arm, gave her a gentle swat directing her over to Dean. Dean knelt down so he was eye to eye with his daughter. John and Sam stepped away to give them privacy.

"Daddy, don't smack my heinie. I didn't pee-pee on purpose." Sammie started to explain but Dean cut her off putting his index finger over her lips.

"Sammie, listen." Dean said sternly. Sammie bounced up and down nervously in front of her dad. "Sammie, Daddy isn't going to spank you for wetting. But I want you to try harder to pay attention to when you need to go. You got it?" Sammie nodded."Answer me, Sammie."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl."

"Good Daddy."

"Good Daddy?"

"Good Daddy for not spankin." Dean smiled as his daughter wrapped her little arms around him and he scooped her into his embrace.

"I love you, Sammie." Dean whispered, his eyes tearing up.

"I love you, Daddy."

* * *

END


	4. Chapter 4

"Dean, I've been thinking." Sam approached the table where Dean and John were buried in books and papers.

"Now there's a dangerous activity." Dean said, flipping a page and smirking at his brother. Sam sat down and rolled his eyes.

"Dean, I'm being serious. Can you just try to be serious?" Sam gave him that parental look that Dean hated.

"Fine, just don't look at me that way."

"Dean, Sammie is four now. I think we need to consider swim lessons."

"Swim lessons, Sam? You mean like rich familiies do? What do you want me to do? Join a country club?" Dean looked at Sam like he had seven heads. John gave no

indication that he heard any of it.

"No, Dean, be serious. The local YMCA has lessons. I'll take her. They have a three hour class on Saturday that guarantees basic skills."

"I don't get why you are pushing this, Sam."

"Safety, Dean." It was John that answered. John's attention had shifted from his book and he was now looking at Dean. "Sam is right. Sammie needs to learn how to

swim, sooner rather than later. What if she fell in a lake or a river or a pool and we weren't there to save her?"

"Dad, one of us will always be with Sammie."

"Yeah, Dean, that is the plan but what happens when things don't go according to plan? She needs to learn survival skills and keeping your ass breathing in water over

your head is one of those skills." John turned to Sam. "Sign her up, Sam."

"Uh, Dad, not to be disrespectful but shouldn't I decide? I am Sammie's father." John gave Dean a look he was very familiar with. Dean may be Sammie's father but

John Winchester was still the alpha of this pack and Dean knew better than to argue when John was resolute on something.

"Looks like Sammie is going to learn to swim," Dean told his brother. Sam got up from the table smiling.

"I'll sign her up."

* * *

"I don't wanna learn to swim!" The three Winchester men were trying to convince Sammie to be happy about swimming lessons. John leaned his butt against the

dresser, Dean sat on the desk top, and Sam perched on the bed where she also sat admidst her Barbie dolls and their styling aids. Sammie had been engrossed in

cartoons when the Winchester men discussed the necessity of swim lessons.

"Sammie, we'll have fun. I'm going to be right there with you, okay?" Sam tried to make it sound appealing but Dean's mini-me wasn't having it.

"I said NO, Uncle Sam, and no means NO!" That was something Dean routinely said to her so her screaming it at Sam meant she understood Dean when he yelled it.

"You want your butt smacked, Samantha?" John asked her sharply. He had a zero percentage tolerance policy for children disrepecting adults. And while Dean was

handling Samantha's discipline now, John would still jump in when he thought Dean was lagging in response time.

"No, Poppa John." Her demeanor toward her grandfather was a 360 degree change from how she was speaking to Sam.

"Then apologize to your Uncle Sam for raising your voice." Sammie crossed her arms angrily. "Now!" John instructed pointing at Sam and taking a step toward her.

"Sorry, I talked bad, Uncle Sam, but I don't want to learn to swim." John rested his butt against the dresser again, satisfied with Sammie's apology.

"You know what, Sammie?" Dean said. "We're not continuing this discussion. We have already explained why this is necessary. You have to take swim lessons. There

will be no more discussion about it. Uncle Sam has been more than patient in explaining this to you, he is taking you tomorrow morning, and that is final!"

"NO!" Sammie screeched. Even though her anger was directed at Dean, Sammie kicked at Sam and connected hard with his stomach. Sam grabbed both of her legs and pinned them to the bed to avoid another kick. He stared wide-eyed at his niece.

"SAMANTHA MARY WINCHESTER!" John bellowed storming over to the bed. Sammie's tantrum stopped as abruptly as it started.

"It was an accident, Poppa John! I promise!"

"What did I tell you before when you kicked your Daddy in the face? What did I tell you would happen?"

"No, Poppa John. I didn't do it!"

"Don't lie, Samantha! I stood here and watched you do it! Do you want to get punished for lying too?"

"No, Poppa John, I don't want to get punished for anything!" Sammie scrambled back against the headboard of her bed and pulled the covers up over her head as if to

hide from her grandfather. John turned to Dean.

"Dean, I need a few alone with Sammie."

"Daddy, tell Poppa John NO! Just stay, Daddy!" Sammie screamed at Dean from under the sheets and blankets.

"Hey, Sammie!" Dean yelled back. "Stop screaming! That isn't going to do anything but make your situation worse." Then Dean turned to Sam. "Sam, let's go."

"I don't want Daddy and Uncle Sam to leave!" Sammie began to sob big theatrical sobs. John rolled his eyes and Sam shook his head.

"Sammie!" Dean said sharply, "You cooperate with Poppa John or you'll be in big trouble with me. You understand?"

"Daddy, no! Please, no, Daddy! Tell Poppa John NO!"

"One." When John counted, it meant he was about to lose his cool so he needed to reign the tantrum in.

"Don't count, Poppa John. I'll listen!"

"Okay, we're out. Sam, let's go." Sam got up and followed Dean but he could not resist turning and giving Sammie a sad smile before they left the room.

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind his sons, John turned back to his wayward granddaughter who was still buried under the covers sobbing. John sat down on the bed next to Sammie and that elicited a more dramatic round of crying. John scrubbed his hand over his face and turned to face Sammie.

"Sammie, c'mere." John instructed calmly.

"No!" The reponse was not unexpected.

"Sammie, you know better than to say 'no' to Poppa John. If I have to bring you to me, you're getting extra smacks for not obeying. Is that what you want?" He was

amazed at the calmness of his own voice.

"No! No extras!" The desperation in her voice broke his heart but he knew he needed to stay the course with Sammie. She was headstrong and fiercely assertive ... like her daddy. But neither of these traits boded well for her as a naughty child with the Winchester men in charge.

"Then sit your butt on my lap. Right now, Sammie." Sammie scrambled out from under the covers and crawled over to John's lap. She did as she was instructed but buried her face in John's shirt.

"Look at me, Sammie." Sammie looked up at John with a solemn look on her face, tears still continuing down her cheeks.

"What did Poppa John tell you would happen if you kicked someone again?" John was calm talking to Sammie.

"But Poppa John, I didn't mean to." Sammie sucked in a stuttery breath.

"What did I say would happen if you did it again?" This time John sounded more firm, his voice slightly raised.

"I would get a real spankin." Her lip quivered and John almost faltered.

"A real spanking over my knee on your bare butt." At the mention of it being bare bottomed, Sammie's crying renewed and she clung to her Poppa John trying to avoid the inevitable. Sammie's drama rivaled anything Sam did as a child. John decided to handle this in a no-nonsense fashion. He picked her up from his lap and stood her on the floor between his legs. He pulled her pants and panties down to her knees and she immediately tried to back away from John. He quickly grabbed her arm to prevent her from running. He lifted her and placed her over his knee. As soon as her little bottom was in position, panic seized her and she began to fight to get off his lap. John decided to make the justice swift and severe so he wouldn't need to do this ever again. He began to slap Sammie's bare behind. She shrieked with each stinging spank. Her skin colored quickly and after a dozen hard smacks, her backside was the color of pink lemonade and it was warm to the touch. John could see a few overlapped handprints in different hues of pink.

"Am I going to need to do this ever again, Samantha?"

"No, Poppa John! I sorry for being bad!" He lifted her from the face-down position and gathered her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed.

"Never again, Sammie. I better never hear of you kicking or hitting another adult ever again. If I do, you'll get it worse. You got me?" John held her tight and rubbed her bottom.

"There is nothing worse than a spankin' on your bare heinie, Poppa John!" She was indignant.

"Oh, yes there is." John informed her. "Just ask your dad and uncle. They got it worse many times."

"I don't want any more spankins, Poppa John." She cried into his neck, wiping her nose on the collar of his shirt.

"Good, because I don't want to have to give you any more spankings. Poppa John hates spanking you. Let's get your pants pulled up." John stood her back on the floor in front of him and pulled her panties up. Before he got her pants up, Sammie pushed her underwear back down and started to cry anew.

"What are you doing, Sammie?"

"My heinie hurts, Poppa John. I don't want my pants on."

"I don't think your daddy is going to let you go commando, kiddo." John smiled at her rubbing her butt furiously.

"What is commando?"

"Bare butt."

"Please, Poppa John?" John texted Dean to come back to the room.

"Your daddy is coming back in. You can ask him." Dean and Sam sauntered back through the door and Sammie dashed over to them.

"Daddy, can I go commando?"

"Can you go commando?" Dean looked at his half naked daughter and shook his head laughing. "No, Sammie, you can't run around like that. Put your pants on."

"I can't. My heinie stings. Look!" She turned so Dean and Sam could see her bright pink rear. She turned back around. "Please no pants, Daddy?"

"Tell you what. You can put on one of my t-shirts until your butt cools down, alright?"

"Thanks, Daddy!" Sammie ran over to the dresser and pulled out one of Dean's shirts. She pulled her shirt off and tugged Dean's on. It dragged on the floor.

"Daddy?" Sammie ran back over to Dean and reached for her dad. He picked her up.

"What, Sammie?"

"Poppa John said there is something worse than a bare heinie spankin and that you and Uncle Sam know what it is." Dean looked perplexed and then looked to Sam and shrugged.

"I know what Poppa John means." Sam said with a knowing smile. "Something your dad and I got more than we would have liked."

"I got nothing." Dean said shaking his head.

"A bare heinie spanking with a belt." Sam stated this as fact, using Sammie's words. Poppa John nodded and Dean laughed.

"Oh hell yeah, that is worse. Shit, a belt on boxers is worse than a bare-handed, bare butt spanking. Right, Sam?"

"It is when John Winchester is swinging the belt." Sam agreed. Now it was John's turn to laugh.

"So see, Sammie, Poppa John wasn't lying to you." John told his granddaughter. Sammie reached for John and John held her so they were face to face. Sammie grabbed John's face between her palms and squeezed making a fish-face on John. She leaned close and spoke to him between gritted teeth.

"You listen up, Poppa John. There will not be any smacks with a belt on my bare heinie. You got it?" Sam and Dean could not contain their laughter, watching Sammie channel John Winchester's bad-ass attitude complete with a 'You got it?' and no fear. John too was amused by Sammie's Winchester bravery. She spoke to him in a way that Dean nor Sam would have even dreamed of, let alone at age four. John pulled her hands from his face.

"I'll tell you what, let's go buy you a bathing suit for tomorrow and we'll drop all discussion about my belt. Deal?"

"Deal." Sammie laughed.

* * *

John dropped Dean and Sam off at the shooting range since neither was interested in shopping for a bathing suit for Sammie. Normally, John would have forced Dean to do it but he enjoyed spending one-on-one time with Sammie. Besides, Dean wasn't as patient with Sammie when it came to choosing. She tried on 14 bathing suits and some more than once before she found one she liked and that John deemed acceptable. At one point, Sammie was at the beginnings of a tantrum, but John just tugged her to him and whispered a reminder to her about what happens to little girls that have tantrums. John had no qualms about disciplining in public. He was oblivious to the angry looks from other parents whenever the need arose to swat Dean or Sam as kids, and his views hadn't changed any as a grandparent. Since Sammie's bottom was still sore from being spanked earlier, she was careful to avoid any additional punishment.

Sammie put her bathing suit up on the counter and smiled at the sales clerk.

"Did you pick this yourself?" She asked Sammie smiling.

"Ya-huh." Sammie wrapped her arm around John's leg and hugged.

"It is very pretty. Good choice!"

"Fank you." Sammie said shyly smiing at the sales clerk. John ruffled her hair and held Sammie against his leg.

"She is really adorable."

"Thanks. I think so too." John replied smiling.

"She yours?"

"Oh, she's mine alright." Sammie smiled up at John.

"You are mine too, right?" Sammie asked John.

"Only yours, Sammie, only yours." Sammie reached her arms up and John swung her up onto his hip. The sales clerk handed Sammie her bag and John carried the center of his universe out of the mall.

* * *

When they picked up Dean and Sam, Sammie was bouncing excited to show off her swimsuit to them. They made a fuss passing it around the Impala. Sammie was so proud of her purchase and bragged to her dad and uncle about how she picked it herself. John went through the McDonald's drive-thru at Sammie's request. They took the food back to the room. Sammie was still bubbling over her bathing suit while the Winchester men unwrapped the food.

"Daddy, can I try it on and show you and Uncle Sam?" Dean shook his head back and forth.

"Not right now. Later. Come over here and eat."

"But I want to show you how it looks!" Dean cringed at the whining.

"Sammie, what did I just tell you?" Dean put his hands on his hips and gave her his best no nonsense look.

"But Daddy, I just want-"

"Stop it, Sammie! Get your butt in that chair," Dean growled, pointing to an empty chair at the table, "And eat your dinner now!"

"Daddy, no! Just let me put it on!" John shook his head and took a bite out of his sandwich watching the battle of Winchester wills.

"One!"

"Don't count, Daddy!"

"Two! If I get to three, I'm gonna swat your ass good, Sammie!" John put his sandwich down, walked over to Sammie, scooped her up, and sat her in the chair.

"Eat, Samantha," he said sternly. Sammie pouted but picked up a chicken nugget and took a bite.

"Dad." John looked over at Dean. "I wanted her to listen to me. What you just did there, didn't help."

"Oh, so now you are the parenting expert, Dean?"

"She needs to obey orders without your help!" John stormed over to Dean and stopped inches from his face.

"Talk to me like that again and I will kick your ass. You got me, son?"

"Yes, sir." And Dean was instantly reduced to the humility of a scolded, little boy.

"Dean," John said, his voice soft again. "Sammie took a hard spanking from me earlier and you can bet she is still feeling it. She doesn't need any swats from you."

John went back to his dinner while Dean stood looking incredulous at his dad. John looked back at Dean and shrugged.

"What?"

"Get the holy water, Sam. Dad is possessed."

"Dean, stop. Okay?" John sounded annoyed again.

"Sorry, Dad, but I don't ever remember getting a get-out-of-jail-free-card from you just because you beat my ass earlier in the day." Dean turned to Sam. "You remember getting that royal treatment, Sam?" Sam shook his head to indicate not. Dean turned back to John.

"Sorry, Dad, no disrespect, but what household are you thinking of? Because it wasn't the John Winchester one we grew up in!"

"Jesus, Dean, man up! You whine like a little boy sometimes, you know that? If I beat your ass twice in the same day, believe me, you earned it!"

"And Samantha directly defying me isn't earning it?"

"Daddy, stop your yelling at Poppa John!" Sammie screeched so loud all three Winchester men winced. Dean started striding over to his daugher but John stepped in between him and his daughter.

"Stand down, Dean. You are out of line."

"I'm out of line? I'm out of line? My four year old has now disobeyed AND disrepected me in less than five minutes, and I am out of line? What am I missing here?" John handed Dean a double cheese burger.

"Dinner. Shut up and eat." Nothing more was mentioned about the incident.

* * *

The next morning, Sam rolled out of bed before the others woke up and brought back breakfast. At the smell of fresh coffee and sausage biscuits with egg, the Winchesters gradually woke up. First Dean, then Sammie, then John. There seemed to still be some tension between Dean and John but no one mentioned it.

"Sammie, stop playing around." Sam gently scolded. "You need to finish your breakfast so we're not late for your swimming lesson." Sammie had brought her little ponies to the table and was lost in play.

"But Uncle Sammie, I don't want to go."

"Sammie, we've been through this several times. You're going. End of story." Dean told his daughter.

"No, Daddy, I don't want to go!"

"Sammie!" John interjected. "Do not argue with your father or your uncle. That is disrespecful and you know that isn't tolerated in this family. Do you understand me?"

When he received no response, he leaned over and tilted Sammie's chin up to look at him. He had a serious, no-nonsense look on his face.

"I asked you a question, Samantha. I expect an answer."

"Yes, Poppa John." Sammie muttered pitifully in a defeated voice. Sammie went back to moving her little ponies around. Sam gathered them up in one swoop and depositied them across the room on the bed.

"Uncle Sam, I was playing with those!"

"And now you're not." Sam snapped his fingers and pointed to her biscuit and apple juice. "Eat, Samantha." Sammie started to get out of her chair when Dean clamped his hand on her leg.

"If your butt leaves that chair, you won't be able to sit for the rest of the day. You hear me?" Sammie started to cry but faced front again. She finally finished her breakfast and as soon as she did, Sam was ready to get her to her lesson.

"Okay, kiddo, go put on the new bathing suit that Poppa John bought you." This seemed to invigorate Sammie. She dashed from the table and started to strip. As soon as the suit was on, Sammie happily paraded in front of the Winchester men, swishing her butt with attitude showing off the bathing suit.

"I think I'm adorable." Sammie told them all.

"Well, there is no question whose kid she is." Sam said to John. John snorted with a laugh.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean glared at Sam.

"Sure thing ... jerk." Sam smiled and winked at his big brother.

As they filed out of the motel room, Sammie turned around and stopped.

"Poppa John?" John was packing salt bullets at the table.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Aren't you coming?"

"No, Poppa is getting some stuff ready for a job."

"I want you to come, Poppa John."

"Sammie, Daddy and Uncle Sam will be there the whole time. You'll be fine, okay?" Sammie ran over to John and pushed in front of him, standing between his legs.

Sammie buried her head in John's chest and started to cry.

"Oh, no, you're not starting that shit again." Dean strode back over from the doorway of the room and reached for Sammie but John's arms encircled her as he glared at Dean.

"Dad, you are unbelievable!" Dean planted his hands on his hips and let out an exasperated sigh. John stood with Sammie in the crook of his arm and walked toward the door.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Going to Sammie's swim lesson." John strode past Dean and Sam and then turned to them. "Well, don't just stand there, boys. Let's go!" John strode out of the room.

"Sam, something ain't right with that man. Didn't he just tell her he wasn't going? What happened to no means no?" Dean threw his hands up at Sam.

"Dean, John Winchester may be a bad-ass hunter and a strict disciplinarian but he definitely has a major weakness when it comes to your daughter." Sam smiled at Dean and shrugged.

"Let's go."

* * *

Sam stood in the water trying to coax Sammie over to the edge of the pool. John and Dean were not allowed on the pool deck since they were not swimming but they were able to watch from the bleachers.

"C'mon, Sammie. They are starting. You need to get in the water." Sammie stood just far enough from the edge that Sam couldn't grab her. She pushed out her bottom lip and shook her head no.

"Sammie, I'm not kidding, let's go." Sam began to sound impatient but still his niece didn't budge from her spot.

"Sammie, so help me, if I have to get out of this pool to get you, you will get a really hard swat in front of all of these people." Sammie looked around and decided that wasn't in her best interests. She walked to the edge of the pool. Sam held out his arms to her.

"Do you trust me, Sammie?" Sammie nodded at Sam.

"Jump to me." Sam stepped closer to the edge to close the gap between him and Sammie.

"Uncle Sam." The whining was starting.

"Sammie, I will never let anything bad happen to you. You know that. Jump." Sammie kept eye contact with Sam as she jumped from the side. Sam caught her easily and held her against him as the lesson began.

Dean and John watched as Sam and the instructor worked with a very engaged Sammie. The look on her face was nothing but pure focus and determination. At the end of the three hours session, Sammie was actually swimming the length of the pool on her own. When she would get from one side to the other, she'd look at Dean and John, wave, and smile. They did the same back to let her know that Daddy and Poppa John were watching. Sam looked proud as a peacock everytime she swam back to him.

Sam chalked this idea up to a huge success. They'd all sleep better knowing Sammie now had one more skill that could potentially save her life. And isn't that what

matters most in a family of hunters?

* * *

END


End file.
